


Just For Fun

by CyberSearcher



Series: Mostly Not Human Hermits [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, EVO watchers, Fluff, Gen, That right there should be a tag, Watcher Grian, cant have shit in detriot, i cant even get proper platonic tags?, no beta we die like scar, wholesome fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberSearcher/pseuds/CyberSearcher
Summary: Grian may have decided to keep his demi-god, eldritch, defiantly not human nature a private matter, but that didn't mean he couldn't use the perks it came with. Now if only he could not get caught.
Relationships: Charles | Grian & GoodTimesWithScar, Grian & Iskall, Grian & mumbo jumbo, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Mostly Not Human Hermits [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005084
Comments: 6
Kudos: 223





	Just For Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Honest, hand-over-heart love this concept. Ever since I found & finished ATUS (and the universe shifts), I've been batting around my own headcannons on the subject. Might do some more exploring of them and some Grian-lore in the future. 
> 
> But also can **_any_** long time authors from Hermitcraft Fandom tell me how to tag these? Because it Sucks.

Grian perked up from re-stocking his barge when he heard an irritated groan from Impulse outside. The other hermit was walking down one of the half-completed roads, kicking pebbles and watching them bounce off lamp posts. He fiddled with a shovel and huffed out agitated breaths through his nose. 

“Hey ‘pulse. You alright?” 

“What?” Impulse snapped, followed by an immediate look of regret, “Sorry, that was rude. I’m just - stupid redstone, that’s all.” 

The blonde shrugged, “I wouldn’t know. But it must’ve been pretty bad if you’re getting angry.”

“Well it’s not just the redstone,” The engineer sighed and took a seat on the side of the road. Grian helped himself to a spot and watched the other hermit hug his knees, “you saw the last death message?” 

Grian winced, “Oof, yea. Blazes in your newest farm?” 

“That and a stupid, lucky Ghast,” Impuse threw his hands into the air, “of course it happens the one time I’m not holding a totem. Farewell, beautiful shulkers.”

“I’m pretty sure Mumbo’s working on a cobblestone farm. He’d let you borrow some.” 

He shrugged, “I guess. Still sucks, it took ages to get all that netherite. Think I could beg Cub for a discount at his cinnamon roll?”

“Ehh,” Grian made an exaggerated sound, “maybe?” 

Impulse stood, rolling out the kinks in his back and shoulder. There were still hints of irritation on his face, but they were now slightly smoothed down, “well, the grind doesn’t wait.”

“Stress just restocked on fire resistance!” Grian called as the engineer was about to take off. 

“Got it, thanks G-man!” 

As he watched Impulse fly back to his base, the teen found himself wandering down the roads of the district and soon he was standing in front of Impulse’s Em and Em Emporium. Grian always liked the iteration, even if he couldn’t stand other forms of wordplay like puns. Near the edge of the road, there was a scattered pile of shulkers and chests. It wasn’t a particularly noteworthy sight, though Grian hoped that the Mayor wouldn’t try to clean these up anytime soon. 

Opening one and shifting through the junk, he glanced down the road, then waved his hands through the shulker. A shower of deep violet sparks and a shift in the world later, the next time Impulse checked his boxes, he’d be greeted with a sufficient supply of redstone. 

The dust itself was scattered in a way so it looked like a lot less than there really was. But if Grian counted right, there were at least a half-dozen stacks of the red powder. Closing it and glancing behind him again, the builder took off on his elytra and hoped Impulse would be checking his shops soon. 

Later in the week, directly after a meeting with the new resistance - which made at least two wars started under his name - Grian flew through the jungle and decided to fly around Scar’s magic forest. For all his pranking and plotting against him, the blonde had a lot of respect for the other Hermit. He couldn’t imagine it would be easy for someone to climb around and build roofs and fancy mushrooms, let alone while wearing braces. 

Though having Grian’s respect tended to just lead to more pranks. And along with the new campaign against Mycelium, he had another brilliant idea. 

He had to be careful checking the base for any sign of the weird, wizard turned mayor. That though actually made him pause, “could he have a crystal ball? I don’t think that was actual magic. Didn’t feel like it at least.” 

Doing another quick fly around, Grian dropped down his ender chest, dug through his shulkers and started planting down the lilac-brown fungi all around the base. He considered just filling the entire shell of Larry the Snail with the stuff, but that was just mean. 

Snickering to himself as he stuffed more mycelium in hard to reach places, the sound of a portal opening made him look up. The sound of screaming made Grian jump. 

Scar burst through his nether portal, flying out with himself and his elytra on fire. He spun wildly into the air, then began a steep dive back to the ground. From the tiny glimpse Grian had caught, he saw the man covering his eyes as if something had thrown sand in them.  
He wasn’t too concerned, death by kinetic energy was more embarrassing than painful. But it was when Grian realized Scar was about to crash into him that forced him to act. 

The same moment panic struck him, he jerked his hands up out of instinct. Scar was still screaming as he jerked to a halt a foot away from the blonde’s face. Then all of a sudden he dropped to the ground, falling face-first into a plot of mycelium. Overhead, Grian hastily shook his hands free of particle effects and helped to put off the flames on the other Hermit. 

“Man, everyone’s having rubbish luck with the Nether,” he commented, helping Scar to stand as he adjusted his braces. 

“Yea, maybe I should’ve brought fire resistance after all,” he groaned, “Thanks a bunch for catching me.” 

The hermit offered a smile. Any worry in his voice could be passed off as concern. “Lucky me, I guess.” 

Scar twisted another gear and managed to stand on his own. At that point, he finally seemed to register the taste of the purple fungi in his mouth. He spat it out with a horrified expression and Grian dashed off, cacking as he flew. 

He knew he had to be more careful after that. Scar or Impulse hadn’t noticed anything, but Grian put that down to luck and circumstance. 

The next few weeks passed and the hermit managed to restrain his temptations. Grian dedicated another few days to grinding out materials for his unfinished mansion and his Barge. Flying out to the same desert he’s been using, he peeled off his thick jumper and set to work. He spent two days carving out a bowl-shaped dip in the desert that looked like a meteorite had struck before he was content he had enough. 

“Four, five, si - wait,” Grian propped open the shulker shell and shoveled the last of the sand into its maw, then clamped it shut, “There! Finally full.” 

Wiping sweat off his forehead, he collected the rest of the purple boxes and was ready to fly back. Lighting his first firework, Grian waited for the rush of cool air under his elytra. 

He squinted, lit another firework, then frowned, “What?” 

Twisting and pulling off the harness, he stared down at the gossamer, fabric like-material that was currently speckled with holes. 

There was no one around to hear him swear at least. 

“Oh, fuck me.”  
Overhead, the evening sun beat down and was starting to dip below the horizon. He didn’t think that the few Husk Zombies that roamed would’ve done enough damage, but Grian couldn’t claim to be the most self-aware Hermit. 

There weren’t any places to gather experience for the mending enchantment. The closest portal was at least a hundred blocks away and he had spent _two days_ farming for sand he was not about to lose. 

There _was_ no one around though. 

Grian looked down at the ruined pair of elytra. Sighing, he carefully folded the material and stored it away in his ender chest. Closing his eyes, he breathed in, held the air, exhaled and repeated the cycle. A staticy, peeling sense crawled up from his back and down his face as his illusion was stripped away. 

He beat his wings once they were fully reformed, rolling his shoulders and trying to adjust to the foreign-familiar feeling of having the extra weight on his back again. Blinking, Grian had to cover his face as the harsh sunlight stung his new, multiple pairs of eyes. 

Combing his hands through the lilac feathers, he lept and sent himself soaring into the air. Flying like this was something he wished he could indulge in every day; it was so much easier to control his movement, his wings responded so perfectly to each though and every command. 

Keeping high enough to stay out of sight and staying low enough to see the ground was a challenge, but Grian could see a wider radius and watched for every small movement across the land. 

He could feel and smell the air shift between the arid desert, to the crisp spruce forests, then finally the humid and slightly sticky jungle. There wasn’t any sign of other Hermits and Grian began to argue with himself. 

“I mean, it’s just a little fly by,” he debated aloud, landing at the foot of his mansion, “nothing crazy.” 

Dumping the shulkers he knew he’d suffer searching for later, the blonde glided back through the jungle and weaved lazy circles around each of the monuments the other Hermits had built. There was the danger of getting his wings tangled in vines, crashing into Scar’s hanging bridges or Mumbo’s odd towers, but Grian knew - and took some pride in - being one of the best fliers for a reason. 

He was in the middle of flying through Mumbo’s base again and trying to find the source of a strange beating sound when he heard twin pops from the portal at its center. Folding his wings and slamming into the giant golden heart - oh, that’s where - Grian peeked over the edge as both Mumbo and Iskall stepped through. He prayed neither would look up and see the glowing violet dots for eyes he now had. 

“Inflatable toys?” The cyborg shook their head, “ Really Mumby? I love you, but really?” 

The mustached man tried to give a mock expression of confidence, but it crumbed when he gave a shy laugh and rubbed the back of his head, “Hey, it was a productive meeting and isn’t that what matters in the end?” 

“True. Think Grian’s restocked the Barge? We could use more sand for concrete.” 

“Uh, I could go ask him, he should still be up.” 

Grian made a small sound of curiosity. He didn’t expect either to hear such an insignificant noise, not with the recent Hermits track record of obviousness. And _especially_ not Mumbo. 

“What in broken tea bags is that?!” He shrieked. 

Grian panicked. Iskall was quicker to draw his bow and the Watcher kicked off the gold heart, jetting off into the night as flaming arrows arched under him. He could distantly hear one of them screaming about oversized mobs. Quickly diving into the jungle by his mansion, the blonde clutched at his chest and tried to reign back in his illusion. 

When he felt his face and found just a single pair of eyes, he deemed it safe enough to return. His timing happened to be perfect. As he searched for his sand shulkers to carry inside, Grian looked up and found both Hermits dropping down onto his lawn with freaked out expressions.

“Dude! Dude did you see that humongous Phantom that just flew by?” Iskall kept glancing up into the sky with an arrow nocked, “Are you alright? That thing was massive!” 

Mumbo puffed out a hard breath. “I didn’t even know they could get that big. Can one of you remind me to light up my base better?” 

Grian tried to ignore the sensation of not-there feathers and did his best to look worried. 

“Guess we should check up on Bdubs later. If he’s skipping sleep then we know somethings up.” 

Inwardly, he groaned. He hoped he’d be compared to the Ender Dragon at least.


End file.
